


Incurvatus in se

by saltandlimes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Demon Hux, M/M, Religion, damnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7181105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The road to hell is only slowly trod. But Ben has a personal guide, Hux. And he's lost to the devil the moment he meets his demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incurvatus in se

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. So I got a prompt on tumblr that was "daemon AU." Which I, of course, read as demon AU. And proceeded to fill by writing about a medieval concept of damnation, being incurvatus in se, looking only inward upon oneself, rather than outward to God and the world. 
> 
> I am so sorry, Anon. This was probably not what you were looking for...

The temptation starts when he's fifteen years old. He's outside uncle Luke's church, kneeling over the garden trying to put it into some sort of order. Except Ben has never been very good at order, and it's too hot, and he doesn't really know what Luke wants anyway. And so he's pulling up weeds, the back of his mind whispering that this can't possibly be the way to the Lord. It can't, whatever Luke claims.

Ben tries to quiet that complaint, tries as he always does. 

But it's hard, so hard. Because Ben is weak, and selfish, and he needs to work harder, pray more, care more. At least, so says his mother. And Leia Organa is always right, especially about these sorts of thing. 

“What the hell are you doing?” The voice, clipped, British, clear, breaks him out of his reverie. And he starts, because he didn't know there was anyone else around. And because... because no one swears around Luke's church. No one, not ever. Then he turns around. 

And he flounders a little, because the boy (man?) standing behind him is more beautiful than anyone Ben has ever seen. Maybe it's the copper hair, flaring where the sun hits it. Maybe it's the odd face, planes and lines sharp in the noonday sun. And maybe, just maybe, it's the sneer, a cruel twist of a mouth unlike any Ben sees around the church. And he doesn't know what to say. 

“Cat got your tongue, Ben?” He must be in his early twenties, young enough. Young enough for Ben, a whisper says in the back of his mind. He takes in a gasping breath. 

“Wh-who are you?” And he feels the idiot, especially after the cold laugh he gets in response. 

“Hux. A friend, maybe. And you're Ben Solo.” Ben nods. Most people know him, the failure of an alter boy, the problem child, Leia Organa's mistake. “And you're fucking weeding. God, Ben. You're better than this.”

And that's the moment he's lost. Because of the blasphemy, maybe. But more because Hux think he's something more, something different than what Luke and his mother have always tried to make him.

***

He stops going by Ben at eighteen. It's his own idea, he thinks, but sometimes he can hardly tell where his own ideas stop and Hux's begin. It's been that way for years. He comes up with yet another way to drive the wedge deeper between himself and Luke, Leia, Han, and he doesn't know whether it's his own plan or something Hux whispers to him late at night, voice slipping dark against his skin as they lie in the grass in the park.

It's Kylo now, and Hux licks the name against his throat, biting the sharp syllables into his neck with teeth that are sometimes too sharp. And Kylo wonders at that, at the odd cast of Hux's eyes. But then there's a flare of pleasure, the slip-slide of need, and he forgets.

There's a fight when he comes home with the papers for the legal change. Leia cries. Han stares for a while, then walks out to the garage, doesn't come back in for hours. And Kylo feels his heart twist a little, reaches a hand out to pet lightly over Leia's hair. But she shrinks back, and he remembers the hole he punched in the wall last week. Remembers that she has no reason to think he won't do the same to her. 

Hux is the only one who isn't afraid. 

And so he walks out later, Leia only staring sadly after him, and gets into Hux's waiting car. The top is down, and the air makes his hair flutter, Hux driving too fast. But Hux is laughing, and his eyes are chips of blue ice, and Kylo forgets the hurt on Leia's face as they pull into the lot next to Luke's church.

The first rock through the stained glass feels like the first breath of air after being choked for just a little too long. 

(And Kylo knows what that feels like, knows the gasping breath after Hux pushes a little too hard, the pleasure that breath always brings)

They fuck in the garden, Hux whispering "Kylo" into his skin with pointed teeth and quick, grasping fingers. And Kylo has scrapes down his back, bruises from the little bench set up for meditative prayer. 

Hux is his prayer now.

***

At twenty three, Kylo has a job in a bookstore. He hasn't seen his mother in years. She leaves endless messages on his phone, pleading calls for him to come home, assurances that she forgives him, forgives him for everything. 

She's lying, of course.

Hux has explained it to him, explained how Kylo has been lied to, betrayed. Explained how Leia's needs mean nothing, how petty and stupid she is. And Kylo thinks he's finally starting to believe.

He comes home to Hux now, after all. And Hux gives him whatever he wants. Hux calls for him to be selfish, tells Kylo not to think about anyone else, to take what he wants and make no apologies. And it's so different from everything Luke ever taught him, but Kylo can feel how right it is, can feel it in the bruises on his wrists, in the scars covering his back, in the forever-stained sheets that Hux insists can't be bleached, have to show off the spatters of Kylo's blood. 

And Hux has shown him so many things. Kylo stopped wondering at that long ago. It doesn't matter anymore, doesn't matter that Hux's eyes are wrong, that his smile is too wide, his grip too strong. It doesn't matter that Kylo sometimes feels the taste of brimstone as he licks into Hux's mouth. And it doesn't matter that every night he sleeps next to Hux, tangled up in limbs too perfect, he dreams of an endless ladder he's climbing down, every step a horror, and Hux beckoning to him at the bottom where something even worse waits. 

Because he's never had anyone, and he has Hux.

So he ignores his mother's calls, ignores Luke's letters and emails. (He hasn't been to church in years, after all. Hux won't set foot inside, and Kylo won't go anywhere but work without Hux.) And he wonders how to stop her from calling once and for all. 

***

Han shows up at his job when he's twenty six. Kylo is still at the bookstore, still shelving endless volumes and answering inane questions. But it pays enough, and they really don't need that much. Hux does something, Kylo doesn't quite know what, and that pays for the rent, the water and heat. And they don't really need anything else, don't go out much (at all).

And Kylo has his hair brushed back nicely, button down shirt and slacks on because he's finally a manager. And maybe he has dark circles under his eyes (he and Hux were up late), and a few bruises on his knuckles (the wall of the apartment complex was harder than he expected) but otherwise he looks pretty good, he thinks. But then Han's there. 

“We're worried about you, Ben. You don't look well.” And he can't scream, can't say anything because he wants this job (Hux likes it). But he looks fine, is fine. And he's not Ben. So he holds it together until they're outside (Hux would be proud).

“Do you have any friends, Ben?” And Kylo doesn't need friends, doesn't need Han's worry, his pity (he has Hux). And the crunch of Han's nose under his fist is loud in the evening air, and it feels good (the little that Kylo can feel). 

That night Hux fucks him on the porch. 

(There isn't anyone else around to see. Or at least, they don't matter.)

***

When Kylo is almost thirty, it happens. He's at the bookstore again, and Han shows up. And he's crying, begging Kylo to come home, to leave Hux (to _leave Hux_ ). 

He says Luke knows what Hux is (Kylo knows too, has known from that first cold laugh). That Luke can help Kylo. That Kylo can be free (if there are chains, Kylo put them on himself). And Kylo needs to be escape. He needs to be rid of this nagging buzz that threatens his solitude (his and Hux's). 

So this time, he doesn't let Han leave after a punch (not exactly, anyway). This time he follows, follows until Han pulls over onto a deserted road, demands to know what Kylo is doing. And then he lies (so easy now). He lies until he's close enough to reach Han. 

There's blood on his hands. And in his hair, and on his shirt. And Han is lying in the dirt.

When he gets home, Hux laughs (such a pretty laugh, and Kylo sometimes hears it echoing in his mind, drowning out the voices of people at work, at the grocery store). And his hands are on Kylo, and Kylo's back is arching, sparks running through him with every scrape of a too-sharp nail. 

When Kylo lies, spent, on the bed, Hux licks away Han's blood (the smell of brimstone is stronger now). And when Kylo falls asleep, he dreams. Only this time, he's not climbing down the ladder. He's at the bottom. And Hux laughs at him, laughs harder than he ever has before. And when Kylo reaches toward him, he fades away, and all there is left is the dark. And Kylo, alone, looking inward.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was *heavily* inspired by Charles Williams's novel _Descent into Hell_


End file.
